Amelia

Dexter and I spent the rest of the day making the modified Waterjet spell. I'd been a little relieved when I realized the spells were built like experiments, bound by certain laws of the world and tailored by the creator to produce what was hopefully a consistent result. Modifying it was much like tweaking the parameters of an experiment to find another result, and I had plenty of practice with modifying experiments. After some time, we found out I had a bit more skill with actually writing the completed spell, probably because Dexter tended to muddle his writings. Regardless, Dexter wanted to get as much of the spell done as possible, so we spent the night designing a nozzle and translating it into a spell. It took a dozen iterations, several hours, and some complete redesigns of the nozzle, but by the end of the night, we had a jet spell powerful enough to carve through most materials. Looking back on it, it should have been simple, but it took us a bit to sort of rework the nozzle and get it to work as intended. The thing that got the spell to work was adding impurities to the water, sand and dirt, that would quickly scrape away at anything in its path. Dexter slowly sliced through a sacrificed chair on the cleared-side of the barn once we got the spell working. He held up the detached piece as he finally broke it free of the chair. His jeans and T-shirt took a minute to dry as the spell water faded into nothingness, leaving his rough air-dried clothes behind. “Fucking finally.” He muttered as he threw the piece into one of the open stables. “I was starting to think we were hitting a dead end.”

I nodded as I marked the page with the now completed spell. “It didn't help that getting the pressure cutter took more than a simple angle change. We ended up having to create a special barrel to keep the water straight.”

Dexter nodded as he began gesturing. “At least now we can start making quartz slices. I don't have the physical tools we'd have to use without this.” I nodded as I swept the other pages over to a pile. I looked over at the now short stack of clean papers as Dexter continued to gesture. With the volume of notes both of us took on magic, we quickly burned through the paper Dexter had brought. Pretty soon, we'd need to switch to parchment, as well as get familiar with the idea of quills and inkwells. I let out a sigh as I replaced the pen in the metal cup we were using as a holder. Dexter finally finished the spell and began slowly cutting another piece from the chair, adjusting his finger's distance from the wood experimentally. At a certain distance from the chair, it started to make a rumbling noise and the spell sprayed water everywhere. Dexter then slid the jet wildly across the seat as the rumbling turned on and off intermittently. I turned to him as he released the spell and examined the chair. “That's interesting.” He noted. He then held up the seat and revealed a mostly undamaged seat with only a few scratches on the surface. “It seems our effective slice range is only about half a foot deep. I'll have to make sure that's not going to become a problem for any of the crystals we make.”

I nodded as Dexter set the chair down and reached for the crystal. “You'll want to do that very carefully. You don't want to accidentally cut yourself.”

Dexter nodded as he walked over and dragged an empty table back to his secluded corner. “I say we cut three or four slices. I'm pretty sure I can eyeball about a quarter of an inch. The Institute can use the rest of it for manastones.” He began gesturing as he braced the crystal on the table. “It's annoying that it's taking so long to cast this.”

I nodded as I glanced at the stack of notes that led up to the final spell. “I didn't expect it to create so much from such a small change. Then again, we're going from a simple create water with x force behind it into a create water with x force behind it and directed in this fashion. The direction is probably what's adding most of the complexity.”

Dexter nodded as he finally finished gesturing and caused another thin stream of water to burst from his fingertips, dousing the area in front of him with water. “In any case, now we can start preparing for the mass production of quartz.” He then squinched up his face as he directed the stream into the gem and slowly began cutting through it. “Ah, fuck that hurts.” He muttered as he moved along the crystal. He continued to wince as he slowly cut through the quartz. After a while, the gem finally made a popping sound and split, revealing a gently curved plane on each face. Dexter released the spell and began vigorously rubbing the front of his shirt. “Fucking shit, that hurt.” l stood and walked over to assess his grievance. Upon closer inspection, I noticed a small pile of white dust on either side of where Dexter had cut the crystal, streaking to and over the edge of the table where he was standing. Dexter lifted his shirt and started scratching at his stomach as he looked down at it.

I gave him a concerned look as I noticed his stomach was red and raw. “I'm guessing you got hit by some of the quartz particles?” I asked.

Dexter nodded as he slowly continued rubbing and looked at the newly sliced crystal.“I guess there's a reason that there isn't anyone doing this shit by hand. Fucking particles go everywhere and now I'm itching like crazy.”

I nodded as I watched Dexter start scratching again. “You're probably covered in pieces of quartz right now. It must be painful.”

Dexter let out an angry sigh as he nodded. “Yea, No Shit. It feels like someone covered me in broken fiberglass. It's not like I want to be itchier than a monkey in a bugs' nest.” I looked at him, taken aback by his outburst. Dexter noticed and suddenly let out a slow sigh as he closed his eyes, breathing for a few moments before looking back at me. “Sorry, it's just fucking annoying to be this damn itchy.”

I paused for a minute then nodded as I reached over and picked up one of the pieces of quartz. The place that had been cut felt a little rough under my fingertips, ridged along a single axis from where Dexter had cut. “You might want to find a way to avoid that when the orcs start doing this themselves. Maybe you can suspend them from above and have them cut the quartz from there.”

Dexter nodded as he finally stopped rubbing his stomach and picked up the other piece of quartz. A grin suddenly appeared on his face as he seemed to consider something. “I'll also have to make some sort of container to catch the dust from the crystal. After a thousand cuts, I could probably collect enough dust to make an entirely new gem.”

I nodded as I watched him place the crystal back on the table and begin to gesture again. “Do you think this will work as a combat spell?” I asked curiously. Dexter glanced at one of the far walls as he continued to gesture. Finally, he directed his fingers towards it and fired the spell. The jet of water barreled from his fingertips and towards the wall, starting to radically diverge from the original confinement at a certain distance. By the time it hit the wall, it looked almost identical to the original Waterjet and just battered heavily against it. Dexter then released the spell and quickly cast the original Waterjet, directing it at the same wall and producing the same effect.

Dexter turned back as he let out a sigh. “Not at long distance.” He finally replied, releasing the spell. “Anything shorter could probably serve better, but once an opponent retreats to a certain distance I might as well just cast Waterjet. I don't think this could even cut soft metal at point-blank range.”

I nodded as I glanced down at the piece of crystal I was holding, and Dexter turned back to his piece, starting to gesture again. “Still, it's useful for cutting crystals. The Institute would still benefit from this.” Dexter nodded as he finished gesturing once more and began to slowly cut through the crystal. I quickly retreated as I felt the water and tiny particles spray in my direction.

Dexter raised his voice a bit as he slowly made his way across the gemstone. “We'll Submit It To Their Archive Of Spell When We Bring The Slices And Sap Down To Them. Until Then, I'm Going To Make These Slices And Then Get To Studying For My Healing Class Tomorrow.” I nodded as I turned to a stack of books and pulled one of them out, walking over to an open table and sitting down to study. I began reading through the book on Mana Manipulation as Dexter finally finished the first slice and moved on to the next one.

We arrived at the Institute early the next day. Dexter wanted ample time to explain the process of vulcanization to Garahk. We'd briefly debated about whether or not to directly bring her the pressure cutting spell. Dexter was adamant that having everything go through her would end up slowing things down. “The fastest way to get the institute informed on the spell is probably to have it registered to their archive. You can head down there while I head up to Garahk's.” I finally nodded reluctantly as Dexter turned and moved towards the stairs. There wasn’t any point in arguing with him. “We'll meet each other in the courtyard.” He said as he disappeared up the staircase. I let out a sigh and nodded again as I turned and walked through another doorway, making my way towards the repository as I clutched the piece of paper containing the completed spell. “We're going to eventually need more paper. I keep thinking about the different properties of paper and parchment. Now that Jolagh has the printing press, he'll need more than whatever parchment they can manage to make. I should see if any of the books at the barn have an entry on paper. If I recall correctly, it's refined wood pulp and adhesives. I should be able to design a process if I know how to make the adhesives. Even if I just end up making rough construction paper, it'll work better than the parchment they use.”

I let out a sigh as I stepped into their repository, a fitting name considering what they kept there. The place was built like a medieval bank, except it looked like it wasn't just currency they kept there. There was a short stretch of desks leading up to the main window made of iron bars, behind which sat an old orc that appeared to be writing something down. Behind the row of raised desks were other orcs, sorting through their respective items and taking careful note of each of them. One side sorted what you would expect to find in a magical bank, coins, small gems, and even a magical item or two. The other side, however, was filled with stacks upon stacks of papers. Most were the typical pieces of parchment, but some glowed softly while others appeared to give off a faint smoke. I looked around as I walked down the line of desks. The interior of the room was as impossibly big as the rest of the Institute. Dark green stone supported the white marble roof in massive columns, stopping about five feet above where the building itself was supposed to end. The walls were made of equally green sediment, reaching up and curving to meet the roof. Wooden shelves sat in recesses within the wall, with a few wheeled-ladders attached to each. I turned to the window as I drew closer.

Upon closer inspection I noticed there were faint runic symbols carved into the metal, glowing intermittently as I stood there. The counter itself was raised as well, the top resting just barely above my shoulders. The old orc continued to write for a few minutes as I waited there patiently. Finally, he looked up as he finally noticed my presence and tilted his head. His pale white hair fell freely over his shoulders, pale green eyes staring at me curiously. “Good morning. How can I be of service?”

I grinned timidly as I held up the page with the completed spell. “I want to register a spell. Dexter and I completed this one last night.” The orc tilted his head the other way as I handed him the paper through a small opening at the bottom of the bars.

He took it gingerly and examined the page. Then he turned it over and appeared to examine the material, bending the page slightly as he did so. “Intriguing.” He muttered. “This parchment is unfamiliar to me. Is this one of your outsider creations?”

I shook my head as I gestured back towards the door. “Dexter had a supply of it when he was brought here. It's called paper. It's a mesh of wood pulp and glue, unlike the animal skin that makes up parchment.”

The orc nodded as he turned the paper back over and read the spell. “You created a modification of the basic Waterjet spell. Is this the rumored weapon your companion is developing, perchance?”

I shook my head in response, my face falling guiltily. “He's still figuring something out. This is for a different task. It isn't even fit for combat. Our modified spell ends up taking forever to cast.”

The orc nodded as he continued to read the page. “I can see it. You were quite thorough. Most amateurs attempt to be lazy by forgoing the gestures or incantations of their spell. I cannot recall how many times I've had to directly inform mages of the proper requirements for registering a spell.”

I grinned slightly as I nodded. “My mother always said it's good to be thorough. Be it magical or academic, I hope I have yet to disappoint her. She might have been an alcoholic, but she knew a lot about life.” I blinked in surprise as I realized I just shared something not even my close friends knew. “What the-”

I muttered to myself, turning and covering my mouth. The orc behind the desk noticed my distress and leaned forward to get a closer look at me. “This is your first time in the repository, correct?” I turned to him in confusion and nodded. The orc then lifted his arm and tapped one of the bars. “Your involuntary honesty can be accredited to these. Garahk created them as a deterrent for would-be thieves. Anyone in the presence of these bars finds themselves inexplicably motivated to be honest. Anything said or written nearby is the truth in the eye its creator.”

I raised my eyebrows at that statement. “That's terrifying,” I admitted, uncovering my mouth.

The orc nodded as he gestured at the page again. “I would not be concerned. Garahk trusts you enough to allow you to learn at her Institute. Even if it is a trust of apprehension, it is a trust nonetheless. In any case, you wished to register this spell?”

I nodded slowly as I tried to not give too much thought to the idea of truth serum bars. “Y-yeah. We completed it faster than we thought. Since the Institute needs it to mass-produce quartz, we decided to register it here so that Garahk doesn't have to personally hand the users a copy of the spell.”

The orc nodded as he reached behind the counter and pulled out a piece of parchment. “There is a moderately lengthy form to fill out and a small fee for archiving the new spell. I will just need you to complete this and pay the fee.”

I nodded as I took the form and examined it. It looked like a normal form, though this one seemed handwritten with black spaces for all of the necessary info. “I should probably mention I don't have any of what you'd call currency.” I suddenly admitted.

I glanced at the bars again as the orc sat back in his seat. “Did you not expect an equal exchange for the repository's efforts?” I wanted to shake my head, but I involuntarily nodded.

“No, I expected it, but I thought there would be a chance that I wouldn't have to worry about it; that one of you might forget the fee because of your excitement for the weapon or some other personal excuse.” I bit the inside of my lip as I now stared angrily at the bars.

The orc let out a small laugh as he leaned forward again, staring at me through the damned bars. “This truly is your first time near these. In all my years as a teller, I have not heard such unfettered honesty. In any case, I assume you have an allowance from the Institute?” I continued to bite my tongue as I nodded. The orc nodded as he reached behind the desk again and pulled out another book. “Then you can withdraw the fee from your account. I recommend you also withdraw some pocket teef in case it becomes necessary to purchase items outside of the Institute. They do not possess the ability to directly charge your savings as our storehouse does.” I nodded as I looked at the form again. It asked all the basic questions; the name of the spell, its effect, and its purpose, as well as a few advanced questions; lunar conditions, ingredients, and runic requirements. I looked up and saw the orc pulling out an empty pouch and another pouch full of coins that made a clinking sound when he set it on the counter. The orc gestured towards the full pouch as he asked one more question. “How much do you wish to withdraw?”

I remained silent for a minute as I considered the question. I then asked a question of my own. “How much would you recommend as pocket change?”

The orc considered for a minute then began pulling coins from the pouch. “Fifty teef should suffice. I will submit the proper documentation while you complete the form.” I nodded as I looked down at the page and realized I had no way of completing the form. The orc noticed my issue and directed me towards one side. “There is a desk where you may with quill and ink over there.” I nodded as I turned and followed his directions, finding a short desk with a few sets of quills and inkwells. I let out a sigh as I placed the form on the desk and began filling it out. “First things first, the name. . . . I guess Pressure Cut is good enough.”

I stood in the courtyard as I waited for the class to start and for Dexter to arrive. The small pouch the teller had given me was resting in my hand. I held up a loose coin from the pouch as I examined it carefully. The best I could tell, it was made of silver and stamped with an intricate design. The . . . toof? Yeah, toof. . . . was about the size of a nickel and just as thick. One side had a curved tooth with weird tribal symbols lining the edge. The other side, in contrast, held just the head of a bear, maw open in a roar as it looked out from the coin. I let out a sigh as I slipped the coin into the pouch and put it back into my pocket. “Furbog was certainly helpful. Despite me admitting to hopefully taking advantage of someone's generosity, he was very understanding. I don't want to talk too much around those damned bars. That's just an accidental confession waiting to happen. It would certainly have made my career as a psychologist easier, but then again, the whole point of therapy is to be comfortable admitting your thoughts. I certainly wasn't feeling comfortable when I was in front of those bars. A lower-powered version might have worked better. If there's a way to influence emotions as well, I could have had a central trinket that compelled my clients to be comfortable and open. I'd be the greatest psychologist anyone had ever known. Then again, that starts to get into the whole ethics of compelled confessions and progress. If the effects aren't permanent they'd likely experience distress after leaving my office. Maybe just encouragement towards the right emotions would be better. Just an enchantment for an ambient feeling of relief and security would accomplish what most psychologists take entire sessions to establish. Though none of this mattered considering I'm now stuck in an-” “Hey Amelia” A voice suddenly disrupted my internal thought and I looked up to see Dexter smiling down at me. “Did you get the spell registered?” He asked.

I let out a sigh of relief and nodded as I palmed the coin pouch resting in my pocket. “I submitted the form with the repository. It'll be in their system within a few days. Garahk can start requesting copies once she's ready to cut her crystals.”

Dexter nodded as he stretched, a grin crossing his face. “I got the sap and quartz slices up to Garahk. I also brought her one of the vise clamps I used so that she could better understand what she needed to get the autoclave working. I spent a good half hour explaining the vulcanization process and gave her some step by step instructions on making the proper seal. She's up there working on her autoclave right now.”

I nodded as I watched Dexter finish stretching, eliciting soft clicks from his joints as he moved. “Did you tell her how to get the sap?”

Dexter considered for a moment, then shook his head. “I don't think she even knows about Mabel. I mean, a nearby very powerful entity would at least warrant a warning. I've managed to put off telling Garahk about her for right now. I did, however, promise I'd show her where to get the sap when they run out. I'll bring Garahk down the Mabel's once that happens. Which reminds me, I need to introduce you to Mabel, she showed a genuine curiosity when I told her about you.”

I sighed as I glanced at the door. I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about that. There was a mysterious woman in the woods. God only knows exactly why she decided to help Dexter. “I can’t help but feel that we might not get along,” I muttered. “With how people have behaved to us recently, I doubt anyone would have a genuine interest in us.”

Dexter let out a defeated sigh as he turned to me. “She seems genuinely interested.” He repeated. “If she wanted something sinister, I wouldn’t have made it back to the city. Besides, she didn’t even know you existed till I told her.”

I felt myself let out another sigh. “I kind of wish you didn’t,” I admitted again. “You can’t be certain why she chose to trust you.”

Dexter let out an aggravated groan as he massaged his temple. “Just trust me on this.” He muttered. “She’s not that bad. She’s just been along for … well, only she knows how long.” We stood in silence for a moment as neither of us spoke. Finally, Dexter let out another sigh before giving me a reassuring grin. “How about this, you don’t have to come with me alone. You can come when I have to tell Garahk where I got the sap. Dryad or not, Garahk seems strong enough to defend herself if needed. Plus, we’d get to see the kind of spells she’s capable of.”

I let out a defeated sigh as an amused grin flashed across my face. “Fine.” I finally relented. “Just tell me when you're going to take Garahk and I'll come with you.”

Dexter grinned at the thought as he glanced back at the door and then at his watch. He seemed eager to get the class started. “Dumag should be here any minute. So, any surprises I should know about before we fight?” He asked playfully.

I grinned and let out a small laugh as I shook my head. “I prefer to keep any discoveries I made a secret, at least until I know how you would respond to it. You never know what people might throw at you.”

Dexter grinned and nodded as he stretched again. “Fair point. It certainly wouldn't be a real fight if I knew what to expect.”

I nodded as we stood there and waited for him to arrive. I felt the sway of the coin pouch and realized how much of a burden it would be in a fight. My eyes grew wide as I suddenly realized I should probably tell Dexter about the coins. “Oh. I did end up getting this over there.” I said as I pulled the bag out.

Dexter raised his eyebrow as I held it out for him, “Teef?” He asked curiously, taking the pouch.

I nodded as he pulled out a coin and examined it. “Just some change in case I need to buy something in the city. I might end up wanting a weapon of my own.”

Dexter nodded as his hand suddenly moved to his hip, his sword currently absent. “That's probably a good idea. Maybe you should head down to Shurkul's and get a weapon there. He might even have one custom made to your preferences.” I nodded as Dexter handed the purse back to me and the courtyard door was pushed open. The usual military line fell in as I rushed over to Dexter's backpack to leave the pouch for safekeeping.

Dumag grinned at us as he looked along the line of orcs, with me and Dexter at the end. “Students, I Am In An Unusually Good Mood Today. As Such, We Shall Forego The Typical Warm Up And Instead Proceed Directly Into Sparring Practice.” The students breathed a collective sigh of relief and Dexter and I turned to grin at each other. That is until Dumag pointed at us and addressed us directly. “You Two, I Am Requiring You To Spar With Someone Other Than Each Other. You Will Not Find Opponents Using The Same Techniques On The Battlefield. I Do Not Care About Who You Pick, Just Ensure It Is Not Each Other.”

Dexter and I glanced at each other, then turned back and nodded. “Sir Yes Sir.” We said in unison. Dumag nodded as he turned to watch the other students pair up while two of them turned to approach us.

Dexter and I helped close the gap as the others split off and began sparring on their own. “Which one do you want to take on?” Dexter asked curiously, his eyes focused on the approaching pair. I shrugged as I assessed the two orcs. The one in front on Dexter's side was female, just a little taller than me and wearing a dark green shawl. The one in front of me was male and surprisingly just a bit shorter, wearing a bright green shawl.

I quickly made heuristic assumptions of their capacity and finally gestured towards the woman. “You take on him, I'll spar with her.” Dexter nodded as he took a few steps and gestured for the orc to follow him towards an open area of the courtyard. The orc complied, and I was left with the other one in the center of the courtyard. “Ready to do this?” I asked curiously.

The orc nodded as she took a few steps back and fell into a fighting stance, hips low, hands splayed. I mirrored her stance as we stared at each other for a minute. Finally, she cast a FrostStorm spell and we began sparring.

I quickly threw up a barrier and countered the spray of ice crystals barreling towards me. Once the crystals melted harmlessly to the ground I retorted with a concentrated blast of mana. I expected her to raise a barrier, but she didn't. Instead, she cast a spell and caused the ground beneath her to pick her up and carry her, closing in and circling me so that she was just behind me. I turned in surprise and attempted to fire another Manaball in quick succession but fell as something clipped the back of my ankle, hard. I instinctively clenched my eyes shut as my head slammed into the ground.

I groggily opened my eyes as my vision swam. I could barely make out my surrounding, but I could make out a series of brown spots directed towards me. I slowly regained my sight and I realized half a dozen spikes made of hard earth had sprouted from the ground and were pointed at me. The orc that I was sparring with was standing above me, on a platform of earth that she'd grown from the floor and curved around me, staring down. Her hands were outstretched towards the spikes, seeming to stop them, as she appeared to stifle a smirk. “Apologies.” She said calmly, trying to keep a straight face. “I wished to test this particular spell and only now had an opportunity to do so. I hope this does not discourage you.” She then gestured and caused the spikes to recede into the floor. The platform she stood on also sank and deposited her in front of me. Her self righteous smirk came closer as she bent and almost sarcastically offered me a hand up. “Come, I will restrain myself from now on. I know there are only so many spells you know.” I kept a calm expression as I crawled to my knees and glanced towards Dexter. I faltered as I saw him on his hands and knees, a puddle of pale brown just beneath his head. I heard a few coughs from his direction as I stood and faced the orc again. “Are you ready for more?” She asked slyly. I gulped as I internally assessed my situation. “She's stronger than she seems. That might be the case for everyone here. Dexter and I have been giving this our all while the others have only been giving just a bit. They might not even have the discount Dexter and I rely on. They have to save their daily mana capacity for when they need it. They can't afford to spend too much on a single class when they have so many others to take care of. Damn it, we've been idiots. Of course, we're still outmatched, and this is only the basic beginners. The level of destruction possible if someone is experienced enough is . . . I can only imagine. . .”

I cleared my throat as I stretched and nodded. “Yeah, I'm ready.” I finally said, taking a few steps back and taking up my stance again. The orc seemed to hesitate for a minute then shrugged as she adopted her stance again and we continued sparring.

Dexter

I held my stomach as I made my way towards my healing class. Despite the healing magic I'd learned, my muscles still felt sore from where the pillars of earth had socked me in the stomach. The mage had done it so many times that I was decently sure my intestines were bruised. However, it was a much-needed wake-up call to just how far behind I was. “Amelia and I are still stuck on one-mana spells. We could use our stamina, but that's draining in a whole other manner. I'll need to get a supply of manastone as soon as possible. A dozen five-point stones should do. Pretty soon, it won't be much of a problem to get them. In any case, I still have a long way to go. I should spend a few extra hours tonight learning more about magic. I might be close to academically caught up, but nothing can replace the experience the others have.” I winced as I pushed open the infirmary door and joined the students that were already there. I carefully nursed my stomach as I sat down with a low sigh. They sounded to be already in deep conversation. “Did anyone hear of the groups attempting to find the Spellstones of Doomach?” One of them asked the group. The others let at a variety of reactions, from exasperation, to awe, and then to boredom.

“No one has found those in hundreds of years.” One of them replied. “I would eat my shawl if any have survived for that long.”

The first orc shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. “Apparently they discovered an old map in one of the history tomes. They are attempting to use it to search the northern mountains for an old Archive. If it would anywhere, it would be there.”

Another orc chimed in as he let out a scoff. “The mountains are enormous, finding a normal ruin is difficult. Finding one that has illusionary enchantments would be nigh impossible.”

The first orc shrugged again. “There is always a chance. It only requires stumbling upon the correct tunnel.”

The second orc nodded then gestured towards the door. “Yes, but those tunnels are also crawling with magma worms. For all we know, the Archive is currently a nest for those crawlers.”

The first orc shrugged again. “I doubt it. The enchantments would likely prevent such creatures from penetrating its walls.”

Another orc scoffed loudly as he gestured at the idea dismissively. “The archive has been lost for hundreds of years. In all that time the enchantment might have failed and allowed them in.”

The first orc let out a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling. “Perhaps, but to think that such marvelous creations were lost is saddening. The texts from the tribe before Gashur speak so highly of the mountain city.”

I glanced around at the group as I briefly forgot about my stomach. “What this about a city?” I asked curiously.

The orc beside me gesture at the first orc as he explained. “There was a tribe that resided in these lands long before Gashur. Ruins of the cities they built can still be found along the mountains, in particular, a city residing within the last mountain to the north. The magic they created was not particularly powerful, but it still delved into areas the Institute still tries to understand. Some of the things they created are called spellstones, manastones that could create and cast spells all their own; just from being supplied the necessary mana.”

I nodded as I leaned forward slightly, now fully engrossed in the subject. “I thought that was already a thing. I mean, you can make staves that test how much mana a person has. From the way I understood it, it sounds like one of those spell stones.”

The orc nodded as he gestured at the door. “You speak of Orbul’s staff. It is the most well studied enchanting technique from that tribe. In truth, many have attempted to recreate the spell stones from what little text we have on the tribe. That staff is simply the only one that has yet been recreated.”

I glanced at the others as the series of events started to be pieced together. “So, why not make the other spellstones? If you could do it for the staff, then it should be easy to recreate the rest.”

The orc shook his head. “Unfortunately, that is not true. The mana spellstone is amongst the most detailed record of spellstones we have. Besides, their method of casting magic is slightly different from the magic we are used to. It appears to translate more readily into spells stones.” I nodded as I stared off slightly, making a mental note. “That might be useful. I'll have to find out some more, assuming the group doesn't find them first. If you can tie a spell to a stone, you might not even need to learn a spell to cast it. It'll be a handheld pressure cutter. . . . Definitely need to look into that.” I looked up as the door to the infirmary opened and Welub walked in. “For now, focus on classes.”

The lesson started normally enough. Welub began with a lecture accompanied by an Illusion displaying the relevant information. He then moved onto a wooden dummy with faux damage applied to it. We were about halfway through that part when all hell suddenly. Welub was demonstrating the various spells to reconstruct damaged limbs when the infirmary door suddenly burst open, spitting four orcs into the room. Two of them had a third's arms draped over their shoulders while the last one followed concernedly. “We Need Some Assistance!” One of them roared. I felt shocked and adrenaline course through my veins as I saw the state of the third orc. His right side was blackened and scorched with pitted spots carrying glowing red fluid. His left side seemed equally damaged, bruises covering the limb as blood dripped from his fingertips. The orc seemed in horrendous pain and my stomach churned from the sight.

Welub reacted calmly and quickly gestured for the class to join him. “Impromptu demonstration time.” He said calmly as the two orcs lowered the third onto one of the beds. “It is time to demonstrate the cure of Magma venom.” He began gesturing over the orc as his ragged breath came wheezing from his mouth. He suddenly pointed to a group of three on his left side then at me and another orc as we stood on his right. “You three, tend to his bone. You two repair the magma worm damage.” I stood there for a second as I registered the series of events that had led to this. Meanwhile, the other four simply nodded and stepped forward to tend to their respective tasks. I forced myself to move forward as I assessed the damage. The forearm I faced looked pitted and cracked like a burned log, fluid oozing from a few pores as I watched. I felt my heartbeat in my ears as I shakily started gesturing through the spells.

Suddenly, the orcs ragged voice reached my ears. “Not the outsider. Anyone but the outsider.” I faltered as I looked up at him. He stared down at me with contempt, as if he was looking down at something he stepped in.

My hands continued to shake as Welub forced the orc's head to the bed. “Just Cast The Spell.” He said firmly. I nodded hesitantly as I looked down at the limb. I shakily started gesturing again as I focused on it, trying desperately to recall the correct spell. I felt a familiar fear as I neared the end of the spell, watching as what seemed like burning ashes rise from his arm, cinders that took the shape of a butterfly. I blinked as I focussed myself on the present and cast the spell. The cracks in his arm started to heal and I felt a brief moment of relief as I pushed forward and started undoing the damage.

That feeling was quickly stifled as the orc let out a roar of pain and used his leg to kick me in the stomach, knocking me to the floor and away from the bed. “End Your Torture, Outsider! You Should Never Have Been Allowed In.” I stared, shocked, as I registered his words.

“Ignore Him, Outsider. Complete The Task.” Welub said firmly. I stared at the arm as I tried to suppress the feeling of uselessness running through me. “Outsider!” Welub repeated. I felt my heart continuing to beat as I saw the embers growing more numerous despite my efforts. Welub finally let out a scoff and pointed at another orc. “You, finish the task.” The orc didn't hesitate and stepped forward to take my place. I felt a churning in my stomach as the useless feeling turned into helplessness. I closed my eyes as memories flashed through my mind, ignoring my efforts to stifle them as my heart beat faster. I didn't need to remember. I didn't want to remember. I had to focus on the present. I opened my eyes and looked up as a groan echoed around the infirmary. The mages were busy repairing the orc, giving me a half clear vision of the one on the bed. I could still see his blackened and molted arm as it was being fixed and I reached my breaking point. I stood and grabbed my backpack as I left the infirmary, retreating from the feeling of dread I was facing. “DO BETTER DAMN IT! You Need To Do Better.” I let out a shaking sigh as I made my way towards the exit and back to the barn.